


Firstborn of the Hunt

by theRadioStarr



Series: The Lion Among the Wolves [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Backstory, Familiars, Gen, POV Animal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-14 23:51:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4584936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theRadioStarr/pseuds/theRadioStarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If I do not return in three days, find your Father."</p><p>She did not return.</p><p>***</p><p>Can be read as a prequel to Capitolina Lupa, or at any time. Takes place before the main story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Firstborn of the Hunt

_His lungs were screaming._

_It was a sensation he couldn't describe, not yet - but he struggled, his mouth opening and closing until_ finally _his lungs unstuck and the first gasp of air filled them. He whined unhappily on the exhale, his fur sticky and cold, until he was wrapped up in something soft and warm._

_"Welcome to the world, pup," a warm voice murmured to him, and he laid there peacefully while he waited to meet the others._

* * *

He waited while his brothers and sisters had disappeared between the trees. They would be fine on their own, just as he knew he would be. But they were off to begin their lives in the forest, now that their Mother was gone. 

He had a much more important task ahead of him.

He caught the scent he was after quickly, but it was days old, and faint. He began to follow the trail, resigning himself to waiting until it was stronger to find his next meal.

* * *

 _When he opened his eyes for the first time, he cried. Everything was so_ bright _, but he didn't have the words to know that just yet - he was only mere hours into this world, after all. He'd had a chance to feed on warm, sweet milk, and then he had napped._ _He took a deep breath, and smelled four others like him: two males and two females. He was the first of them to wake, and so he rolled over and grabbed at the ear of one of his sisters, hoping to wake her so they could play._

_"Let her sleep, child," came a tender, soft voice. A familiar voice. The one he knew as Mother. "Not all were born as strong as you."_

_He opened his eyes again, but they didn't stay open long, the brightness an angry assault. But he had caught a glimpse of her, and it was enough._

_Mother._

* * *

The poor hare had barely even struggled. He dug in to the poor thing greedily, though he had no one to share with.

The scent was stronger, now. He had lost it a few times, crossing shallow streams or simply because it was newly buried by fresh fallings from the trees. Wind rustled through them, and he paused his meal to listen. The whisper of the leaves fluttering and the creaking of the boughs reminded him of the Mother's voice, and he whined to himself. 

She was gone, and the only chance there was at bringing her back was to continue his hunt.

He finished the last of his hare, and went to clean off in the stream before picking up the trail again.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would succeed.

He was Firstborn of the Hunt, after all.

* * *

_He wasn't interested in milk anymore._

_"Fetch him a grouse," Mother ordered. He waited impatiently, crying with his hunger. Mother cooed at him, her voice a comfort, until the other girl came back with the bird._  
_He stood and jumped, jaws snapping, trying to get it - it smelled good, and he wanted to eat it, but the girl hadn't dropped it yet._

_"Be patient, child. Do not bite the hand that feeds."_

_So he sat and thumped his tail against the ground until the bird was deposited in front of him. He turned to look at Mother over his shoulder to make sure he could dive in to it._

_"Go ahead, child. But do not claim it all for yourself - see if your brothers and sisters wish to share it with you."_

_So he ate slowly. The other four came to investigate, but in the end only one of his sisters partook of the bird with him._

_Mother picked up the other three one by one to give them their milk._

* * *

Night fell, and he found a tree to nestle up to. the night was cool in the forest, but nothing he was unfamiliar with.

He was almost asleep when the first howl broke through the night. It was a familiar sound, and his ears pricked. He picked his chin up off his paws and sat up to listen.

The same howl broke through. His sister, one of them. One of his brothers answered, and then his other sister. His heart swelled with both relief and pain; he missed them already, but this was for the best now.

When they began the third time, he threw his head back and joined their chorus.

* * *

_He sniffed at one of his brothers. The pup was small, smaller than his sisters and other brother, and Mother had to feed him more frequently._

_"Do you think he will make it, My Lady?" asked Mother's favourite disciple._

_"I will do everything I can to help him grow, but such is the case with litters," Mother answered as she gently guided him away from the little pup, picking his brother up in willowy hands and placing him to her breast. He latched on to a nipple and began to suck. "Runts are inevitable. They have a hard time in the world, but he is lucky to be one who hunts, and not one who is hunted. More than that, I cannot say."_

_The girl nodded sadly, and placed two birds down for the other pups to eat. They dug in noisily, their worry about their little brother forgotten._

* * *

He was close, and he knew it.

But he was uneasy: the scent had grown steadily stronger, and he was sure his target had drawn him out carefully, to a specific time and place.

His hackled raised as he trotted through the forest, stumbling over still-too-big paws. He was wary to begin with, but he got more and more nervous as he got closer.  
The forest was dark, now, the moonlight too weak to filter through the trees.

Perhaps he would continue his hunt in the morning.

His target wasn't going to be going anywhere, after all.

* * *

_There was a commotion outside: sudden screaming, the crackle of magic, the flickering light of fires._

_Mother stood, her bow in hand and quiver strapped across her back. He asked what was wrong, and she called them all together._

_"Stay here," she commanded. "Do not leave here until all falls quiet again, or until the flames meet you. If I do not return in three days, seek your Father. You will find his scent down below."_  
_She looked at him pointedly, and he promised that he would search. She bent and quickly kissed them each on the snout, murmured words of love spilling from her between each one, and then she was gone._

_They huddled together and whined until the lights of the fires went out._

_She did not return._

* * *

He entered the clearing slowly, hesitantly, and was surprised by what he found.

His Father sat on a stump, waiting patiently with eyes closed. He expected his Father to look like him and his brothers and sisters, but he looked like his Mother, with two arms and two legs, a flat face and hair only on the top of his head. It was long and dark, spilling down his back, twisted into heavy locks instead of flowing free like Mother's.

His Father opened his eyes, and he stopped short under the weight of the elf's gaze. The eyes he looked into were impossibly blue, bright and clear. Just like his own.

"What is your name?"

He told the elf, quiet and hesitant.

"Andruil has sent you to me?"

He confirmed.

"Why?"

He was confused - was this elf not his Father? He smelled like his Father, familiar notes in his scent to his brothers and sisters.

The elf stood and walked up to him, kneeling on the ground only a pace or two away.

They stared at each other for a few moments, and he registered the change in the elf's scent as his emotions changed, from guarded to curious to... loving?

"My child. You are young, and yet, you found me here. How many are you?"

He answered the elf, carefully naming his two brothers and two sisters.

The elf nodded, and then he changed, until a dark wolf with six blood red eyes stood before him. He backed away quickly, but upon realizing that the wolf was still his Father, he moved close again and sniffed at him.

_Come, walk with me. I would begin to know you._

His Father's words passed his ears and his mind, reverberating through his bones, and he grinned, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

His Father's name was Fen'Harel.

* * *

He opened his eyes and groaned. The light was harsh, like the first time he had opened them after coming in to the world.

"Ah, good. I was starting to worry you wouldn't wake."

He saw his Father across the room, a deer gutted and roasting over a fire. It smelled delicious after such a long sleep.

"I am sorry to wake you, child, but I have a request for you." Curiosity coloured him, but his Father shook his head. "I will wait until after you have eaten. In the meantime, let me make sure you are okay. You seem to be in good health, but the Uthenera was not meant for beasts."

He let his Father fuss over him, and while he ate, his Father explained what he needed.

"You will find her agreeable, I think," his Father finally finished. A wave of his hand, and an image of a young elf girl, no more than 14 or 15 years into the world, appeared before him. She was a pretty thing, long copper-gold hair and deep blue eyes, a splatter of little dark spots across her nose standing out starkly against her fair skin. "I cannot allow her to go on without some sort of protection against those who would oppose her, and I can think of no one else better suited to the task."

He finished his dinner before answering, but it did not take him that long to make his decision.

He learned then that her name was Lupa.

* * *

_"They will need names, Lady Andruil."_

_"Of course. Bring them to me, one by one. And be ready to record them."_

_"Yes, My Lady."_

_He felt soft hands grab him around the middle and lift him up. He wiggled, uncomfortable, until he was given to a new set of hands, these ones strong but tender, firm but loving. One hand grabbed him beneath his shoulders around his back, and the other tucked his tail and held him up from the bottom._

_He opened his eyes, and this time, the brightness wasn't so blinding. It was his Mother holding him, her forest green eyes warm with affection and framed by treebark brown hair._

_"My Firstborn, my Most Pure, strongest and smartest of my children," she began, her voice like the whisper of wind through leaves, "To you, I give a name that embodies all of these things._

_"You will be known by all... as Romulus."_


End file.
